


Endlessly Caving In

by tinknevertalks



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Battle, Pre the formation of The Five, Pre-Source Blood, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaguely Victorian sensibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks
Summary: Helen is not hysterical, but just in case, Nikola offers his assistance.





	Endlessly Caving In

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [FandomRevival](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FandomRevival) collection. 



> _**Prompt:** _
> 
> _As clinical as this may sound... Helen gets diagnosed with hysteria in her early days at Oxford. Nikola decides to help._
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Any mistakes, point me in their direction so I can fix.

Stomping into the library might not have been her best idea in recent weeks, but trying to go to the lecture hall in her state of mind would have been worse. The men in her class already gave her a wide berth, as if femininity was a type of infectious disease. If they somehow caught wind of her visiting a physician, regardless of her diagnosis... Shaking her head, she found a corner, far away from the prying eyes of everyone, and opened the book she’d been carrying.

“ _Anatomy: Descriptive and Surgical_?”

Helen looked up, over the top of her book, to see Nikola’s worried blue eyes, then back to her book. “Yes. What of it?”

“You weren’t in the lecture today, we were worried.”

She rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t tell lies, Nikola. Nobody, save yourself and Nigel, were worried about my whereabouts.” Looking up again, she gave up on the book, putting it to one side and indicating a chair for Nikola to join her. “Did I miss anything important?”

“Nothing your book couldn’t tell you,” he replied, sitting down. They sat in awkward silence, Helen both dying to tell someone about her visit to the doctor, and dying of shame at the thought of voicing his ‘medical’ opinion.

“The campus physician believes me to be suffering from hysteria.” Cool, calm, collected. That’s how she hoped she sounded, rather than, well… hysterical. Nikola, she was almost pleased to note, first blushes then blenches. “I told the gentleman that I highly doubt his diagnosis, but as he is the campus physician…”

“You have to accept his diagnosis?” he asked, still ever so slightly pale.

Nodding, she explained. “If I wish to continue my education, I must be cured of my hysteria.” Grimacing, she looked down at her hands. “Doctor Graves suggested a few treatments, none of which sound appealing.”

“Could you… treat yourself?” he asked haltingly, the blush staining his cheeks once again.

She knew without a mirror she'd turned bright red. Keeping her gaze on her hands, she said, “I… I think not.” A sudden tawdry thought burst into mind, a blooming image of thin, nimble fingers dancing up her leg, moving ever closer to her-- “I'm sorry, what did you say?”

“Could I… Could I be of assistance?”

She swallowed, slowly moving her gaze from her hands to his face. He was as red as she felt, but earnest in his offer. Opening her mouth, she found her words had deserted her for no sound escaped her lips. Instead, she moistened the corners of her mouth, asking, “Are you aware of how hysteria is treated?”

He nodded, holding her gaze, shifting slightly. “I have read on the subject, not… extensively…”

“Then you understand why I am… hesitant?” He nodded again, and Helen closed her eyes, that strange warm feeling coursing through her, the same distracting image clouding her mind. “Yes,” she sighed, before rousing herself from her imaginings. Looking again at Nikola, she realised the word she had all but moaned like a wanton but decided not to feel shame for her reaction. “Thank you, Nikola. I would be very… grateful… for your assistance.”

He nodded, and both sat still, not looking at each other, wondering how to carry on.

“Would you be comfortable doing this in my rooms or--?”

“Your rooms,” she interrupted, looking back at him. “Matron would have a fit if she saw you leaving mine.”

“And she wouldn’t if she saw you leaving mine?” he asked, a small smile peeking out from under his moustache.

Helen rolled her eyes, and stood up, watching Nikola do the same. “She probably would, but I doubt she’ll be patrolling the gentlemen’s dormitories…” Brushing down her waist, she tried not to notice the way his eyes lingered as she reached for her book. “Shall we begin?”

\--

‘ _His bed is firmer than mine,_ ’ was her first thought, followed closely by, ‘ _There’s so much light in here._ ’ She was alone on his bed, under a blanket he left folded over the foot end. On a chair lay her dress, petticoat, and underwear, waiting to be reworn. 

“Helen?” he called cautiously.

“I… I’m ready,” she replied, knuckles white as her fingers held the blanket close to her. As he walked through the door, she was suddenly struck by how young he looked. Ever so confident in lectures and labs, here he appeared uncertain, on the verge of flustered. It was adorable, and Helen's worries diminished, somehow intuiting she would be the one to teach him as he cared for her. Another bolt of warmth stole through her, and her fingers relaxed. “Come here,” she murmured, patting the bed next to her, distracting him from his staring match with her underthings.

“Are you warm enough?” His voice, quiet, rumbled through her. She nodded, her own smile small, and he took a breath. “I am aware of how to treat your… treat you, but at a loss as how to start.”

She hummed thoughtfully then carefully pushed the blanket away from her, watching as Nikola’s eyes widened with each inch of her uncovered. Although partially dressed in her chemise and corset, her legs were bare. Boldly (possibly even brashly), she stayed still, letting him drink his fill of her. The power went to her head, reaching out her hand to grasp his and place it on her hip. “Touch me, possibly?”

He ducked his head. “Possibly,” he murmured, smiling at her as his hand rested where she placed it. Heat radiated from his palm, searing her skin, but she ached to feel those nimble, perfectionist fingers between her legs. Her breath caught in her lungs, warmth blossoming in her lower abdomen as his hand began its journey across her body.

His movements were light, tentative, as if applying too much pressure would make her pop and disappear like a bubble, but the gentle caress stirred a quiet, inquisitive moan from her lips. Bolstered by the sound, his fingertips brushed further south, edging around the blonde curls between her legs, feeling instead her inner thigh.

“So soft,” he whispered, his index finger travelling down the length of one thigh, coming up the other. Without thought, she opened her legs further, almost embarrassed at the waft of aroma that accompanied the motion. But he kept teasing her skin, those fastidiously neat nails scratching lightly along the seam where leg and hip meet.

All but panting, she moaned his name, needing his hands on her before she fainted. He shushed her gently, “I’ll get there, Miss Magnus.”

“Doctor,” she gasped, as his fingers dipped lower, teasing her outer lips, “and… and don’t… don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he asked, skittering carefully over her inner lips, his fingertips casually passing by her clitoris with a gentle caress, her shuddering intake of breath his only answer. “You liked that?”

Rolling her hips, she nodded her head. “Yes. Again.”

Smirking, his thumb repeated the motion as his finger dipped into her warmth, the sensation of something stroking her flying through her. That delightful finger, steadily, experimentally, pumping in and out of her, adding kindling on the fire already burning fiercely within her. 

But it wasn’t enough. “One… Not good…” Her hands bunched up the bedding beneath them.

He stilled his motion, although the heel of his hand continued massaging her clit. “Not good?”

“Need more,” she explained at last, grinding against his hand, wanting more. “Try -- oh!”

Another finger slid into her heat, giving her muscles more to clench around, his thumb replacing his palm's ministrations. Slowly he moved his fingers, sliding in and out with an ease that would've made Helen blush had it not felt so good. Curling them within her, making come hither motions, he stroked against something that made her eyes fly open and the loudest moan ever made filled the room, before her eyes closed tight, chasing after that wonderful sensation. All she wanted was more, not hearing her own panting begs, or the way she sobbed gratefully when he kept. Doing. That.

Her orgasm crashed through her, stealing her breath as her pleasure shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, her whole body curling before relaxing on the bed, harsh pants tearing from her lips.

“Did that help?” he asked gently a few minutes later, smiling down at her.

“Yes, I…” She pushed herself onto her elbows and looked down. His fingers were still in her, not moving, not teasing, just there, warm and alien and familiar. “Nikola?”

“Yes?” His eyes looked deep into her own, and she could feel herself slipping into their depths. Licking her lips, she moved her hips experimentally, squeezing his fingers with her inner muscles. His eyes went wide, and Helen almost laughed at his comical expression (willfully avoiding the loss she felt when he removed said fingers from her wetness). “I… I… I shall get you a cloth, to clean yourself,” he stammered, dashing from the bed.

It was only as she moved and sat up herself that she realised the awkward way he carried himself, as if she had not been the only one affected by this ‘healing’ method. ‘ _Well, that makes things interesting…_ '

A week later, after a lecture, Helen cornered Nikola in a disused lab, the image of his hand between her legs branded on her mind’s eye, distracting her from almost everything. Her mind kept replaying their activity, adding more with every repeat, her whole body hot and heavy again. 

“I need another treatment.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well nonny, I hope its ok that he offered to help. And I'm never writing smutty!Victorian!Teslen ever again (she says, ending it the way she did). So much reading! Seriously, I'm gonna get some weird things following me because of my Google searches, I stg. XD


End file.
